Dorm Room Cuddles
by Monochromatic Swirls
Summary: Sairhara seeing Oma in his room was an expirence. The boy had been in his room on other occasions, so it was not something usual. But he also wasn't in there enough for Saihara to deem it being an everyday occurance. So, simply put, this was just an occurance. But those other times had not involved Oma picking the lock to his room and insisting that he spend the with night Saihara.


Insomnia has always been a problem that Shuichi had suffered from, even from a young age. He would lay in bed, sleep enwrapping him. It would seem like it was about to welcome him into it's comfortable dreamland, only for his conscious to be wide awake under his closed eyelids, no matter how weary he was.

It was infuriating.

But there was nothing he could do but deal. So if that was what he needed to do, then he would do what he must. So, he leaned back against the head board of his bed, pillows proping his neck up, and a good book opened in his hand.

Unlike sleep, he could easily set off into this temporary escape from reality. It was a nice break from having to deal with the fickle thing that was sleep.

A warm light spilled from his partially closed closet door. The lights in the rest of the room were off, hopefully providing him with a setting that would wade his mind and allow him to sleep.

He had taken a few books from the library, such as the one he currently had cracked open in his hand. As far as he could tell, there was no way to check them out, and it didn't appear as though there were any rules against taking them from the library. So, he took a few and put them in on his drawers, and pulled them out on occasions such as this, or when he was feeling overwhelmed and didn't feel like spending time with his other classmates.

He continued reading. The book was one that he had never heard of before. It was apparently one that Tsumugi had read before, and had highly recommended to him on his last trip to the library. It was--

Click

A small metallic scraping sound resounded from his doorknob.

He furrowed his brow and looked over for a moment at his door. It was shrouded in darkness, his closet light not reaching the area.

Click

The handle turned, and his door swung open, quickly but quietly, to reavel none other than the small Ultimate Supreme Leader.

They both paused for a moment.

"Ouma-kun?" He asked after a moment's hesitation. The look of well hidden surprise was wiped away quickly by the liar in favor of one of his trademark grins.

"Saihara-chan! What brings you here so late at night?" He inquired in his bubbly fashion.

"Well, this is my dorm room," Saihara slipped his finger between the pages of his book as a bookmark before closing it. "May I ask the same for you?"

"I just thought that I would give my beloved Saihara-chan a gift." He bounced on the souls of his shoes as he said this. Taking a few strides of to Saihara's bed, he flopped himself down and looked over at Saihara expectantly.

"A... gift?" He could hear the confusion apparent in his own voice. Even if he was still awake, his brain was rather foggy and tired. Ouma seemed satisfied with his question, however.

"Yup! I decided to grace you with an interesting occurance in your so painfully boring existence. Although, I wasn't expecting you to be up this late. That can't be good for your health. Then next thing you know, a body discovery announcement will play, and we'll have to do a trial to cover your lame death."

"Ah, I appreciate the sentiment, but you're up too." Shuichi said, placing his book on the nightstand next to his bed.

"Aww man, you caught me there, Mister Detective!" He pouted, although the mirth was still a parent on his face.

"Ouma-kun, you still haven't answer my question," he sighed. He had no problems speaking with Ouma. He actuallu found him quite interesting, albeit frustrating a times. However, it did always leave him feeling mentally exhausted after picking apart everything he says into truth or lies.

"Which one? You have asked quite a few of them."

"Why you picked the lock to my room in the middle of the night."

"Oooohh, that one," he sang. He lifted his arms behind his head, locking his hands together in a casual manner. "Well, I couldn't sleep, so I thought, 'Well, Saihara-chan is probably awake right now, so maybe I should pay him a visit!' So I came over to your room!" He concluded.

"Ouma-kun, that's a lie."

"Is it?" He asked in mock curiosity.

"Ealier you said that you weren't expecting me to be up this late," Saihara said, disproving another of his lies. Although he could believe the part about Ouma not being able to sleep. Or at least not being able to sleepwell.He had slight dark circles under his eyes, and no matter how good of a liar Ouma was, he could his the exhaustion in his face.

"Woooow, you reallyarethe Ultimate Detective!" The boy exclaimed.

"So are you going to tell me why you really are here?" He questioned. He blinked slowly at Ouma. He could feel the exhaustion getting to him. All he wanted to do was to curl up into a little ball and fall asleep. The dim lighting in the room was helping with that factor.

Instead of answering his question, Ouma flopped back into Saihara's bed. Upon contact, he buried his face into the pillow on the other side of the bed and curled up. "Your bed is really soft, Shumai."

"Oh, uh, yes," he could hear Ouma take a deep breath in, followed by a loud exhale. He was thrown off guard by Ouma. By now he really should know how unpredictable he could be.

"Saihara-chan, I don't wanna move, we should just stay here," Ouma procided to make himself more comfortable, spreding out his limbs so that one of his legs was dangling of the edge of the bed, while his arms were dangerously close to Saihara's side of the bed.

"You... don't want to go back to your dorm room?" He wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. How are you supposed to respond?

"Nope," he said softly, although still popping the p, "I'm finally feeling sleepy though, Shumai, if you make me leave now, you'll be a big meanie. Besides, there's room for both of us," he haphazardly dropped his arm up and down as what was most likely ment to be a gesture to Saihara's side of the bed.

Saihara stared at him for a moment more. His dark hair was flung around over the pillow he was resting on. He noticed dismissively that a few strands were curled together in somewhat of a heart shape.

"Saihara-chan, were you taught any manners? It isn't very polite to stare," he rolled his neck so that he could his look Shuuichi in the eyes.

"Ouma-kun, his how could you possibly know that, your face was buried in a pillow." Ouma was very obviously tired. He blinked once, before a lazy smirk materialized on his face.

"Oh, my sweet beloved, don't you know that I know you like the back of my hand? I know everyone here," he paused, "I'm sure I could write a book about all of you and get it all perfectly right," Saihara squinted at his casual and layed back demeanor.

"That's a lie, isn't it?"

"I don't know, maybe it is, maybe it isn't~ you do know me the best, after all."

Saihara wasn't to sure about that. Ouma was still very much an enigma to him. He was constantly giving off subtle hints to mysteries that Saihara would never notice until later, but it would always be a key point that would help them see a bigger part of the picture. He wasn't sure if anyone truly knew Ouma, besides Ouma himself.

"Heeeeeyyy, you're ignoring me again. That's not nice to do to your honored guest!" He pouted, puffing his small cheeks, "Let's just go to bed already."

Saihara felt a small hand reach up and grab onto his collar, pulling him down into the bed.

"Ah, hey!" He shouted in surprise. He was forcibly ploped down on the pillow across from Ouma, "Uhm, Ouma-kun, are you sure you don't want to go to your room? I'll walk you there if you want me to." He mumbled in an unsure manner. Across from him, Ouma let out a small noise of displeasure.

"Saihara-chan," a look of frustration took over his face. Wrinkling his nose and puffing up his cheeks again, "Are you really that uncomfortable sharing a bed with me? Or are you just that shy? Nishishi, you really are a nerd!" He gave of a smile. It looked almost completely pure and genuine. But this was Ouma Kokichi we are talking about, Ultimate Supreme Leader, although he seemed more like the Ultimate Liar to Shuuichi. Nothing he said could be taken at face value.

Ouma yawned deeply (Saihara was sure this one was genuine), closing his eyes in all, and letting out an (adorable) squeak at the end. He sighed in contentment. The room was filled to the brim with a nice and tranquil atmosphere, more so than when he was alone and reading a book.

Ouma rolled over, and crawled towards so his legs weren't hanging off the end of the bed, and drapped half of his body over Saihara's.

Saihara could feel his face burn, and his body tense up at once. Ouma was using Saihara's chest as a pillow, tucking his head under his chin. His arm was laying gently across his chest, along with his right leg over Saihara's.

"Why'd you freeze all up, Saihara-chan? Stiff pillows aren't very comfortable, they're pretty useless, actually," with that, he raised his head and readjusted as if Saihara was actually an uncomfortable pillow. He layed back down, snuggling into Saihara's side.

"Ah, um, sorry... I was just surprised is all. I was assuming you were going to use the other pillow?" He the last part more as a question. He forced himself to relax, and lean back into his bed.

"Hmm, that's painfully boring. You know I hate boring things. You're lucky that I don't count you as one of them!" He drawled out. Ouma slipped one of his arms under Saihara, then wrapped his arms around his middle. "Goodnight, I'm going to go to bed now, don't run away while I'm asleep, or anything." Saihara was sure that was ment to sound more like his usual animated and bubbly voice, but it instead came out slow and tired, just exaderating how close he was to sleep.

"Oh, goodnight Ouma-kun," but he was sure Ouma was already gone by the time it left his mouth. Or he could be faking it, but that seemed unlikely.

His eyes unwillingly drifted over to Ouma's small frame. He could feel the soft rise and fall of Ouma's chest in his sleep,in and out, in and out.

It was almost like a lullaby.

The contact sent a strange warmth through his body, like a fuzzy feeling. It was nice. It was refreshing. He could feel himself craving more of it, even though they hadn't separated.

Saihara couldn't even remember the last time that he was this close to someone. The most intimate he had been with someone at this school would have to be Kaito's back-breaking pats on the back, and his 'bro hugs'. All of those seemed to be different than this. This was different; better, even.

Although he was beginning to see a problem with their arrangement. He was still slightly propped up on the pillows, which was beginning to cause him some pain.

He shifted lightly, trying his best to not wake the sleeping Ouma. Of course it didn't work.

"Saihara-chaaaaaan," he slured, "You promised you would leave me," he tightened his grip around Saihara Sahara and nuzzled his face into Saihara's neck. He immediately tensed, tingles shooting up and down his spine.

"Oh, I, um, was just reajusting so I would be more comfortable."

Ouma gave him no signs of moving.

Saihara sighed. Biting the inside of his cheek, he awkwardly wiggled to the side. Ouma's arms around Saihara's torso dragged Ouma along with him.

Finally he had reached a position where his wasn't contorting his neck in a uncomfortable position.

Ouma's warm breathes danced across his skin. His mind was foggy. He still wasn't completely sure that this wasn't just some bizzar dream that his mind conjured up in the middle of the night. But then again, Ouma did never like to be predictable.

A piece of dark purple hair tickled at his jawline. Saihara hesitantly wrapped his own his own arms around Ouma. He pulled him closer, Ouma fitting perfectly under Saihara's chin.

The other boy let out a long breath. He felt Ouma's soft lips grazed against his bare neck. He felt warmth spred through his body, along with a strange flutter in his stomach.

Maybe all of this was intentional on Ouma's part, and he was just trying to get a reaction out of Saihara. That thought slipped out of his mind quickly, because somehow his hands managed to make their way into Ouma's hair. His fingers carded their way through his dark locks.

Now that he was this close to hom, he realised that Ouma didn't really... have a certain smell to him. It was a strange thought, but he had always books with a romantic subplot, and the protagonist had found that their romantic interest (Why was he comparing this to a romance novel? They were just friends, and he definitely didn't have any interest in the Supreme Leader) had a certain scent that would perfectly describe their character. But, Ouma didn't have that. He just... smelled like Ouma. If anything --as cheesy as it is-- he smelled like warmth.

He could feel his eyes falling shut, as he stared off into the soft light that trickled out of his closet. He briefly wondered just how many times Ouma had payed him a visit in the night, but the thought fell as soon as his eyes closed.

And of course, Ouma was gone before Saihara woke up. But he couldn't hide the dip in the bed and the warmth he left behind.


End file.
